"The only reason why we are here is because the soil is very interesting." -Marcel Giesen

High density vines work their roots into a limestone shelf.

Something truly special is happening at Bell Hill Vineyard in North Canterbury, New Zealand. You can feel it in the vineyards, sense it in the tasting room, and taste it in the glass. Everything on site from the vine posts to the floorboards resonates with a quiet sacredness that draws you in to a state of reflection.

When you talk with winegrowers, most will tell you that "90% of the wine is made in the vineyard;" but at Bell Hill, this is clearly apparent and doesn't need to be stated. Husband and wife team Sherwyn Veldhuizen and Marcel Giesen have a clear and focused dedication to these vines; they talk about clones as if they are their children.

Their high-density vines require meticulous hands-on management, and when you see the well-manicured vineyards, it looks as if a machine has tidied them up. But that "machine" is Sherwyn, and she combs through her rows with a precision that out-performs any piece of equipment. As Sherwyn led us through the vineyards, a pair of clippers sat taughtly poised in her hand, ready to snap if even a single vine tendril thought it could be vigorous that day and cautiously unfurl across our path. When a weed thought it could creep out over a stepping stone in front of us, she halted our caravan, grabbed the gangly and arrogant plant by the root and snipped it off. She has tamed these plants to focus solely on the task at hand: making concentrated and perfect fruit. If I were one of her vines, I'd be afraid to underperform or disappoint, and I'd give her my best grapes.

The Bell Hill vines are trained low and nestled closely together, pitted in competition with one another for water and nutrients. The practically unfathomable vine densities range from 9,090 to 12,500 vines/hectare (compare this to the vineyard density of 3,000 vines per hectare which is usually used for maximizing yields and making mass-produced table wine). With little option to lazily spread out, the roots are forced to go down. At such high densities, these vineyards are impossible to farm with machinery, and everything must be done by hand.

They have no real opportunity to cover crop because outside plants would grow up to the low fruiting zone, shade it, and make it more difficult for winds to dry up mildew-risk zones. Without the option of cover-cropping, they plant oases of native plants to harbor insects that eat vine pests. Powdery mildew is a risk here. They have powerful nor'west winds which tear through the vines every so often and dry the bunches, but still, they take what some viticulturists would call extreme precautions against fungi. For instance, when Sherwyn and Marcel drop crop, they carry the discarded bunches out of the vineyard so mildew cannot breed or spread.

The unique soils on this site drew them to this place. They have limestone and clay as their palette- exposed limestone deposits from an old quarry give the roots a true challenge and create highly distinct wines, and the spongy clay deposits close by give those wines an incredibly rich texture.

A home-base cottage sits in the middle of the vines.

Where did it all begin?

They signed the papers for the land the day before their wedding, so Bell Hill Vineyard is, in a way, a portrait of their marriage. From this cottage they set out and planted their vineyards-- the first vines went down in 1997. Daringly, they planted their most difficult sites first. By getting the trials and defeats out of the way on the tough, smaller plots, they'd have more experience when it came to planting the larger blocks and could make more informed decisions when planting a larger amount of plants (and yet, there is not much difference between a "large" and "small" plot at Bell Hill, as their vineyard blocks range from .2-.45 hectares). Thus, Bell Hill has been forged in the hottest part of the fire-- intense focus goes on the vines at the fringe.

Sherwyn leads the way down "The Steps" vineyard block.

There have been trials and tribulations on this journey. A Mosel-esque plot of steep riesling vines didn't make it. Sherwyn describes the experience with a sadness at the corners of her mouth, but she has plans to replant this section as a different variety. Of course she does: no obstacle can stop this woman. In several years when she does coax fruit from this hill, I'll be the first in line to try the wine.

The empty riesling posts guard a stairway to pinot noir heaven.

But for all the disappointments, there have been unexpected joys. They found a fossil deposit where a stream once ran through their land a millennium ago. Excavation revealed several bird species including many kinds of giant Moa. Long before grapevines were ever brought to New Zealand, birds larger than people would have roamed the Bell Hill Vineyard lands. The same thick and molasses-like mud that trapped these birds where they stood and secured their death now has vines tapping into it for life.

Marcel Giesen and Sherwyn Veldhuizen

As some of the first people to plant on limestone soils in New Zealand, when they first sought vines there were not many clonal options available to them in the nurseries, and the material wasn't adapted to the high pH levels in their unique soils. Marcel is finding that as New Zealand's wine industry grows, the quality and variety of rootstocks available to them is getting better and better, and he notes that "there is a lot of fine tuning that can happen in terms of the rootstocks you choose."

They faced the same uncertainty with scion clones on their unique plot, but they've approached clones with an open mind. "To categorically disregard a clone is difficult until you try it on your own land," Marcel explains.

When it comes to making the wine, they are on the same page. Sherwyn notes that "we've got similar palates, so we don't argue that much about style." But when the fruit they are working with is so carefully farmed, "the wine is bigger than what you do to it," she says wisely.

"You put a lot of money into the labor, and a lot of time into the canopy..... but you get it back in the wine." -Sherwyn Veldhuizen

Their wine cellar is an old shipping container, buried in the ground. A playful mushroom door opens to a spiral staircase that leads you down to the barrels.

Sherwyn and Marcel are growing some of the world's most exciting pinot noir and chardonnay.

The chardonnay is whole cluster pressed in a hydraulic basket press, fermented on indigenous yeasts, allowed to go through full malolactic fermentation (because the high acid balances out the malic perception), and are aged in mostly old barrels. The result is a nervy, compact chardonnay with an introspective concentration that reveals the impeccable vineyard management.

The pinot noir is harvested/fermented separately by block, de-stemmed, spends about a moon-cycle on skins, then a year in new French oak. It sits in a tank before bottling about ten months later. Quantities are extremely limited-- you can read the bottle production on each label. The Bell Hill red wines result in rich pinot noirs, perfectly ripe flavors, and soft, soft tannins. The aromas are so complex, and the acid feels so balanced when you drink it.

Wines from this type of viticulture don't come cheap-- it probably takes more ounces of sweat and tears to bring each bottle to market than the drops of liquid found inside. In the hardest years, Sherwyn and Marcel have coaxed a few hundred cases from their vines. Now, they have built up to a production of about 1,000 cases/year. These wines are expensive and rare; but if you find a bottle, consider yourself lucky, because you are drinking a wine that springs forth from the edge of what is possible in the vineyard.

Bell Hill wines are on another level. The sum is greater than the parts. Like a Bach Partida or da Vinci painting, Sherwyn and Marcel have shepherded into being something that borders the holy byway of meticulous technique. They bring a sublime order to the chaos.

"You will only be remembered for what comes out of the bottle." -Marcel Giesen

This is a great post. Enjoyed reading it very much.
If wine is not the epitome of hard work, perseverance, discipline and passion..I don't know what is?!
Erin - your statement "If I were one of her vines, I'd be afraid to under perform or disappoint, and I'd give her my best grapes." duly captures Marcel Giesen's amazonian attitude for creating art. I cannot wait to try these amazing wines - or should I call them 'poetry in a bottle?'. Thanks for sharing this experience!

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Erin

I’m Erin, and I’m thirsty for drinks and the secrets they hold. Wine is my main game, but I’ve been known to love a cocktail here and there, and who doesn’t like a good beer on the regular? This blog is for wine/spirits/beer geeks. No beverage will be left unsipped! Posts are at least weekly, more if possible.